


Earning Their Keep

by AmberBrown



Series: Earning Their Keep [1]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Fuck Or Die, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, sadist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-29 09:34:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12628080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmberBrown/pseuds/AmberBrown
Summary: ‘It will be a few days before we receive a reply…you will have to earn your keep while you wait.’Aramis’ smile faded slightly as the scarred man very obviously leered at them both. Aramis knew what the man was implying, and his three subordinates were not even bothering to hide their smirks. D’Artagnan had not reacted to the statement, Aramis wondered if the young man fully understood what was going to happen.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This is more about the relationship between our heroes, how they help each other out. There is nastiness as well, obviously. I am sure Lucifer has a special place for me and my deviant mind when the time comes. I’m horrible.

The men who attacked them were organised. The road he and d’Artagnan were travelling on was not usually frequented by robbers. Aramis decided, as he drew his gun and shot the closest man through the head, that their attackers were specifically after them. Although if they were trying to intercept some intelligence they were too late, the missive had been delivered and they were on their way back to the garrison. 

Two men swarmed up to him and dragged him from his horse. He landed on the ground hard and found he was not allowed to regain his footing. One of the men had quickly straddled him and was pulling his arms up behind him and binding his wrists. The boots of the other man were close to his face. Despite struggling he knew he would be unable to regain his freedom without help.

He moved his head and was able to see d’Artagnan fending off two other men gallantly. He had forced one back whilst he swung at the other who tried to thrust forward only to receive d’Artagnan’s main gauche in his chest, the weapon pushed hard and retrieved quickly ready to be redeployed. 

The man who was standing next to Aramis yelled across at the young musketeer, ‘stop, now, or I will shoot your comrade through the head.’

Aramis felt the business end of a gun pushed into his temple forcing his head to the ground. He watched as d’Artagnan stilled and allowed the other man to relieve him of his weapons. Grinning the man pulled d’Artagnan’s wrists together and bound him, unlike Aramis he was bound with his arms in front. 

The man straddling Aramis stood up pulling the marksman up with him. Aramis stumbled as he stood but was caught before he could fall by the man who had aimed the gun at his head. 

The man was older than himself by a few years, with an ugly scar across his left cheek marring his otherwise handsome features. The man pushed Aramis over to where d’Artagnan was standing. Aramis made eye contact with the young man who nodded that he was alright.

‘As you have managed to take out two of my men it won’t be as easy to watch you both, I need to make it a little easier,’ the scarred man said to them both, he turned to speak to Aramis, ‘I apologies but you are the one who won’t need to be watched as closely.’

Aramis did not understand what the man meant initially, but in the split second before he lost consciousness from a blow to the head, he did. D’Artagnan’s cry of protest was the last thing he heard.

MMMM

D’Artagnan watched as the man carrying Aramis over his shoulder dumped the unconscious marksman on the ground with little regard to the man’s wellbeing. The man retreated from the cell as d’Artagnan was pushed in, he turned as the cell door was closed behind him. One of the men pulled a dagger from his waistband and indicated for d’Artagnan to approach him. When the young musketeer did not move the man laughed.

‘I’m going to cut the rope off you.’

D’Artagnan took a couple of steps forward and held out his arms. The man made short work of cutting the ropes, letting them fall to the floor. What d’Artagnan was not expecting was the way the man held onto his wrist and rubbed his index finger across the skin lightly. D’Artagnan pulled away taking a step back. The man laughed again and winked at him before walking off. The man walked up a few steps to a heavy door which was being held open by the big man who had carried Aramis into the cell. They left together closing the door behind them. 

A groan behind him made d’Artagnan turn. Aramis was waking up, and trying to move, his still bound wrists restricting him. D’Artagnan crouched down resting his hand on the marksman’s shoulder lightly in an attempt not to startle his friend. 

‘Hey, you OK?’

Aramis blinked a few times before focusing on d’Artagnan, ‘what happened?’

‘We were attacked, do you remember that?’

‘Yes.’

‘They knocked you out and slung you over one of the horses. I had to ride behind one of the other men…they said if I tried to escape they would kill you.’

‘Did you have an opportunity to escape? You should have…’

D’Artagnan frowned, ‘don’t say that…but I didn’t have a chance anyway.’

Aramis was trying to sit up, d’Artagnan helped him then went about untying the ropes that were still keeping his friend bound. 

‘Any idea where we are?’

‘No, it’s quite a big house, but I don’t know the area. I could get us back to the main road though.’

‘Good, that’s better than nothing.’

With the rope gone Aramis spent a few minutes rubbing his wrists to get the circulation back into his hands. They leaned against the wall, side by side and stared at the bars opposite them. Outside the cell was a sturdy looking table and two chairs. A small shelf above it held a few jars and bottles. Light entered the cellar from a few windows set high in the wall, but they could not see anything other than blue sky through them. 

MMMM

They had been in the cell for several hours before the scarred man visited them. He arrived with three men in tow. Aramis guessed this was all the men the scarred man had. A number that he and d’Artagnan could easily overpower should they be given the chance. The man stood in front of the cell looking at his captives who had remained sat on the floor leaning against the wall.

‘I have sent a message to your garrison. I expect they will want their men back and be willing to pay for your freedom.’

Aramis laughed, ‘they won’t pay a ransom, you may as well just let us go or kill us, you won’t get any money, we’re not valuable.’

The man regarded Aramis for a few seconds before nodding to himself, Aramis wondered what the man was thinking.

‘It will be a few days before we receive a reply…you will have to earn your keep while you wait.’

Aramis’ smile faded slightly as the scarred man very obviously leered at them both. Aramis knew what the man was implying, and his three subordinates were not even bothering to hide their smirks. D’Artagnan had not reacted to the statement, Aramis wondered if the young man fully understood what was going to happen. 

The scarred man turned and left followed by his men, the last of whom looked over his shoulder as he climbed the steps asking, ‘which one will we get?’

‘I will decide in due course Mark.’

The door was closed, and the two musketeers were left alone.

MMMM

D’Artagnan had noticed that Aramis had lost some of his normal cocky attitude during the brief conversation with the scarred man. As their captors had left and Mark had made the remark about which of them the guards would get, d’Artagnan had begun to understand what was going on.

He turned to Aramis who was already looking at him his expression sad. The marksman spoke calmly, but d’Artagnan could detect a little trepidation, ‘do you understand what they want to do to us?’

D’Artagnan found he could not keep a tremor from his voice as he replied, ‘I think so…I’ve never…’

Aramis sighed, ‘I didn’t think you had. It is, unfortunately, not an uncommon practice for captives to be assaulted. I have to say I have been lucky, up to now, but I know of other soldiers who have been raped whilst held captive.’

D’Artagnan tried to hide his shock as Aramis used the word ‘rape’, his mind was whirling. He could not put his thoughts in order. He blinked trying to calm himself down. Aramis was talking to him again, his voice calm.

‘We are going to try and escape before anything happens…’

‘What if we can’t get away…what if they come back before we can escape…I…what will I…’

‘Listen to me d’Artagnan. If we don’t escape before they come back, you need to understand what is going to happen. What they are going to do is going to hurt you. But,’ Aramis paused, ‘if you can relax it will be easier for you…I know it seems an impossible thing to do, but if you are tense when they take you it will cause you much more pain.’

D’Artagnan tried to listen to what Aramis was saying. 

‘Hey,’ said Aramis again trying to get his attention, ‘do you understand what is going to happen, do you understand how two men have sex?’

D’Artagnan nodded, ‘I know what they do, but I’ve never really thought about it, what it would be like.’

‘That’s OK, just try to relax your muscles as they take you.’

D’Artagnan found that he was shaking. Aramis rested his hand on D’Artagnan knee and squeezed it reassuringly. He knew that Aramis took male lovers as well as female ones, his friend had experience with other men, but not like this. D’Artagnan noticed that the marksman, despite trying to be outwardly calm, had paled considerably since leaning they were both to be used by their captors.

MMMM

They had spent some time trying to force the bars on the cell, all were firmly in place, their prison was well maintained. Aramis had hoped that they might be able to escape before the men returned. He knew d’Artagnan was close to panicking, the young man was very pale and the shake in his hands as he had been pulling at each bar was very obvious. 

He knew that the experience was going to be unpleasant, but he at least knew what to expect. D’Artagnan was inexperienced, Aramis suspected the young man had not even been with many women. As they had attempted to escape Aramis had explained to the frightened man what it felt like to have sex with a man, drawing on his own first time in an attempt to ready him.

Aramis had also made it very clear to d’Artagnan that if either one of them had an opportunity to escape they should take it, even it if meant leaving the other behind. Reluctantly d’Artagnan had agreed. Aramis knew he would not leave the young man if the opportunity arose, but he needed to know d’Artagnan would leave him. 

When the heavy door to the cellar was pushed open d’Artagnan retreated to the back of the cell, Aramis found himself unconsciously standing in front of his young friend. 

The big man pointed at d’Artagnan, ‘you, come here, you’re ours…the boss wants the older one, wants to teach him a lesson for laughing at him earlier.’

When neither of them moved the man continued, ‘we’ve been told only one of us can take you at a time, but if you don’t cooperate we can all take a turn right now. So, you either come here now and just have Luc have his turn or you get all three of us right now, today.’

Aramis was impressed when d’Artagnan walked forward, his expression neutral. He prayed the young man would find an opportunity to escape in the next few minutes and take it. The big man had a gun trained on Aramis, as the cell door was opened. Luc, the chosen man, looked d’Artagnan up and down, a look of hunger on his face. As the young musketeer reached the entrance to the cell he was grabbed and forcefully pushed over the table. He struggled against the sudden assault, more so when Luc and Mark began pulling at his breeches and roughly pushing them down, his underclothes quickly following.

With horror Aramis realised they were going to fuck his young friend with no preparation. The pain and possible injury would be excruciating.

Aramis knew he had to intercede.

‘Please,’ he said with his hands out in a sign of supplication, ‘you can’t just fuck him like that, you’ll hurt him…’

When the men laughed at him, Aramis continued, his eyes on d’Artagnan’s terrified face.

‘If you injure him today, what good will he be to you tomorrow…and the next day,’ Aramis continued glancing at Mark and the big man in turn.

The big man lowered his gun slightly and turned to Luc saying, ‘oil him up.’

‘No,’ replied Luc, ‘I ain’t doing that, you do it.’

Aramis took a step forward, ‘let me do it, I know what to do…give me fifteen minutes and he’ll be ready for you.’

D’Artagnan was breathing hard, still leaning over the table, his eyes wide as the conversation went on around him. Aramis hated watching what his young friend was going through, particularly as he knew worse was to come. 

Luc, hauled up the half-dressed musketeer and pushed him back into the cell, Aramis catching him before he could fall.

‘Fifteen minutes, and he had better be good when I come back,’ said Luc as he reached up to the shelf above the table and took down a small bottle and handed it to Aramis who was still holding onto d’Artagnan.

The three men left the cellar closing the door firmly behind them.

MMMM

‘What…what are you going to do to me?’

‘I’m sorry d’Artagnan, but if they had carried on they would have caused you serious injury…if they had taken you like that you probably would have bled, and the pain would have been really bad.’

D’Artagnan was still confused, his breathing was still fast, he allowed Aramis to guide him down to the floor kneeling down, his breeches still around his knees. He watched as Aramis pulled the stopper from the bottle the man had given him, he poured a little oil over his fingers.

‘What I am going to do, is use this oil to help stretch the muscle and made it easier for him to push inside you. Will you allow me to do that for you? It will be uncomfortable, I will go as slowly as I can, but we don’t have much time.’

D’Artagnan let the implications of what Aramis was going to do sink in, it all felt so alien to him. But he trusted Aramis and knew his friend was trying to help. He slowly nodded his head.

‘What should I do?’

‘Try to relax,’ said Aramis, ‘lean forwards and let me do the work, tell me if it is too painful…but I may have to do this a little quicker than I would normally. I’m sorry.’

Aramis managed an encouraging smile, d’Artagnan nodded and did as he was told he allowed Aramis to arrange him, pushing him down to rest on his forearms. He felt Aramis rest his hand on his buttocks and flinched slightly but managed to remain in position. 

A trickle of what he guessed was the oil dripped across him, he felt Aramis’ dexterous fingers, now oiled up slide between his buttocks.

‘Relax…take a breath.’

Aramis was managing to keep his voice calm but d’Artagnan could detect an urgency despite the marksman’s effort. He took a deep breath and did his best to relax. As Aramis gently pushed a finger into him he tensed up and tried to move away. Aramis put a firm hand on the small of his back keeping him steady and in place. D’Artagnan closed his eyes, one thought kept returning, what he was feeling now was probably nothing compared to what he would be feeling in a few minutes when the man fucked him. Aramis was his friend and was trying his hardest not to hurt him, Luc was an enemy and clearly did not care about his welfare. 

The finger inside him was being moved about and slowly pushed further in. D’Artagnan gasped as he felt Aramis push a second finger inside him.

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, we don’t have much time, I want you to be ready…I’m sorry.’

Despite the situation d’Artagnan found Aramis’ worry for his welfare touching, the man clearly hated having to do what he was doing under the circumstances. 

He took more deep breaths as Aramis began to push the two fingers in and out of him, scissoring them occasionally, in an attempt to relax and expand the muscle. When the marksman pushed a third finger in d’Artagnan felt so full he nearly collapsed.

‘It’s OK that should be enough, concentrate on relaxing. Try not to think about what he is doing to you. Just keep relaxed.’

Aramis pulled his fingers out and sat back for a second. D’Artagnan looked around and found that his friend was looking away from him. D’Artagnan got the impression Aramis was crying, or at least trying not to, when he looked back his eyes were wet.

Aramis helped d’Artagnan to sit up as the door to the cellar reopened. Luc was first to walk down the steps, he looked hungrily at d’Artagnan, who shuddered.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

The big man and Mark entered the cell. The big man pushed Aramis away as Mark hauled d’Artagnan up and dragged him back out to the table and pushed him down over it. Luc was busy undoing his breeches, his cock already stretching the fabric of his underclothes. As the big man left the cell closing the door behind him Aramis crossed the few feet to the bars. None of the men objected to the move. He knelt down in front of d’Artagnan who had his eyes shut and was clearly trying to control his breathing. Aramis reached through the bars and grabbed the young man’s hand. D’Artagnan opened his eyes and found Aramis’, they maintained eye contact.

Luc had reached out and grabbed d’Artagnan’s hips and lined himself up, his cock teasing at the young man’s buttocks. D’Artagnan’s breath hitched as he stifled a cry. Luc took no care, he simply thrust forward pushing himself deeply into d’Artagnan who could not stifle a second cry, this time one of pain, not fear. 

Aramis felt his hand being squeezed hard by d’Artagnan who had screwed his eyes shut. Aramis rubbed his thumb across the back of d’Artagnan’s hand in an effort to remind the young musketeer that he was not alone.

Luc was building up a rhythm with his thrusts, his head thrown back as he began to enjoy himself. The other two were taking great pleasure in watching, throwing in the odd comment of encouragement to their friend. 

Aramis spoke quietly to d’Artagnan, ‘relax, slow your breathing…I know it’s difficult, but try.’

Aramis saw d’Artagnan manage a small pained nod. He was pleased the man was still aware enough to listen to him. The assault continued for another couple of minutes before Luc’s thrusts lost their rhythm and with a cry of triumph he came. The other two cheered as Luc pulled himself out of d’Artagnan whose eyes flew wide at the action. The big man pulled d’Artagnan up by the shoulders and steered him back to the door of the cell which had been opened by Mark.

As he pushed the abused man back into the cell he said, ‘it’s my turn tomorrow…and I’m a big boy…’

The three men laughed again. Luc was busy tucking his shirt in as they walked back up the steps. Mark looked across at the two captive Musketeers as he went.

‘The boss will be down to collect you in a couple of hours…I hope you can put on a good show, he’s still smarting after you laughed at him,’ he said winking at Aramis as he disappeared through the door. 

Aramis was not interested in what the men had to say, he was more concerned with d’Artagnan who had sagged in his arms as soon as the door closed. The young man had buried his face in Aramis’ shoulder and was clearly sobbing, the cries muffled due to his position. 

Aramis guided him over to the wall and before pushing him down to sit, pulled up his underclothes and breeches. D’Artagnan winced as he was pushed down and twisted slightly so as not to be sitting straight. Aramis pulled the abused man around to lean against him, smoothing his hair back as he did so.

‘I’m sorry…’

‘Why are you sorry?’ asked d’Artagnan his voice steadier than Aramis had expected him to be.

‘I’m sorry you had to go through that…I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from it.’

D’Artagnan managed to sit himself up with a wince, ‘you said yourself that this is not uncommon. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so naïve.’

Aramis shook his head, ‘no one should have to endure that.’

‘No, they shouldn’t…will it be worse…with the big man?’ asked d’Artagnan unable to hide the trepidation in his voice.

Aramis sighed, ‘you’ll know what to expect, and hopefully they will allow me to prepare you again.’

D’Artagnan still had tears falling down his cheeks. The young man was shaking and clearly in shock.

‘But we are going to do everything we can to escape before then,’ said Aramis, hoping that he sounded more confident than he was.

MMMM

They sat in silence for a while, Aramis had his arm protectively around d’Artagnan who welcomed the contact. Aramis was frequently tactile with all of them, but this was more than a friendly gesture, his friend was trying to give him strength. Despite knowing that Aramis was going to have to go through the same thing the marksman was doing everything he could to make d’Artagnan feel better. 

D'Artagnan was grateful, he felt utterly drained by the assault, he felt empty. He could not settle on one emotion, in quick succession he felt angry, ashamed, scared and regretful. He was angry that their captors could use them in such a way. He felt ashamed that he had not been able to stop it happening. He felt scared as he knew there was a good chance it was going to happen again. And he regretted being so naïve and unprepared that Aramis had had to help him through it. He was a soldier, he should have been ready for this eventuality. 

The door was pushed open, he unwittingly tensed up as the big man entered carrying his gun. The leader followed. D’Artagnan was aware of Aramis shifting next to him. The big man aimed his gun through the bars at him. Aramis climbed to his feet, squeezing d’Artagnan’s shoulder as he did so. D’Artagnan looked up.

‘I’ll be fine,’ said Aramis quietly with a small smile.

D’Artagnan watched as the marksman walked across to the open cell door, somehow, he managed to exude more confidence than he probably had as he went. The leader did not look impressed and reached out grabbing Aramis roughly by the arm, pushing him towards the steps. The man pushed Aramis up the stairs cursing at him every time he tripped. They disappeared through the door, the big man retreated as well with a knowing smile as he went.

Alone d’Artagnan could do nothing but wonder if Aramis was going to be OK. He also hoped the other men would not return before Aramis did. D’Artagnan felt a little selfish wanting his friend back with him the next time he was assaulted. He was certain they were not going to escape before the next time.

MMMM

The scarred man grabbed Aramis’ arm again. He did not resist. The big man was behind them, his gun still trained on Aramis’ back. The leader paused outside a door.

‘Open it.’

Aramis did as he was told, he was shoved forwards into a large bedroom. D’Artagnan had been right, the house was big. He had been forced across an impressive entrance hall and up a grand staircase. The room he was now in had a large four poster bed in its centre and luxurious furniture dotted about.

He heard the door close behind him and turned to face his captor who was regarding him with a sneer. 

‘My boys tell me you helped your young friend earlier. It seems you have experience. I prefer my men to have experience, I like to enjoy myself. I don’t want to be listening to some young virgin crying out for his mother…the rules are simple, you do as I tell you and I won’t send my boys down to the cellar to gang rape your friend…and believe me they want to, they are not as picky as me.’

Aramis nodded slowly but did not reply.

‘Your silence is a good start…strip.’

The man crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed pulling off his boots. Aramis began to unbuckle his doublet, untying his sash as he reached his waist. He dropped both onto a nearby chair. He sat down and pulled off his own boots and stockings. The man had been quicker, and was down to his underclothes already, leaning back on his elbows watching. 

Aramis realised that his hands were shaking, he tried to still them but could not. He could not deny that he was nervous and scared, he realised he had been lucky to have never found himself in this predicament before. He had no way of knowing how violent the scarred man was going to be. But he did know he would have to accept whatever was done for d’Artagnan’s sake. He did not want his young friend to go through any more than he had to.

Aramis could only hope he had an opportunity to overpower the man before he had an opportunity to warn the guard who was no doubt waiting in the corridor outside the bedroom. Aramis would have to play along for now.

As Aramis stepped out of his underclothes and stood, naked, in front of the scarred man he felt extremely vulnerable. His usual part in such liaisons was either as an equal or the dominant partner. He had never been submissive during a sexual encounter. 

The man rose from the bed and walked towards him, his eyes raked over the marksman’s body. Aramis shivered. The man circled him, Aramis could not help flinching slightly when he felt the man’s hands brush against the small of his back and give him a gentle shove in the direction of the bed. 

‘On the bed, hands and knees, I’m going to show you the same curtesy you showed your friend.’

Aramis did as he was told climbing onto the large bed. Its soft mattress enveloping his hands as he crawled forward enough to get into the position the man wanted him in. He watched the man cross to a side board and pick up a bottle of oil. He crossed back and climbed up onto the bed, kneeling behind him. 

Where Aramis had been gentle and as slow as the time would allow with d’Artagnan the scarred man was rough and firm with his ministrations. He oiled up his fingers and thrust two into Aramis at once, eliciting a shocked cry from the marksman.

‘I said silence was good,’ said the man leaning forward and slapping Aramis across the face with his free hand. 

The man firmly pushed his fingers in and out, stretching Aramis uncomfortably. A third finger was quickly introduced causing Aramis to hiss in pain, desperately trying not to make a noise. The man twisted his hand around producing a gasp from Aramis who tensed up waiting for the slap that inevitably followed. The man hit him harder this time, almost knocking him over, but Aramis managed to stay upright. After another couple of thrusts with the oiled fingers the man withdrew. He did not look around but felt the man reposition himself pushing his legs further apart, his hands on Aramis’ hips. 

The man’s cock was pressed against him, he concentrated on relaxing as he had urged d’Artagnan to do earlier. As the man pushed into him, with little ceremony, Aramis realised the man was bigger than he was used to, his eyes watered as he was forced to take the man. He could not help another cry of pain. The man took one hand from his hip and grabbed him around the neck pulling him upwards.

‘Be quiet, or your friend will be hurt…do you understand.’

Aramis nodded, breathing hard. The man let him go, Aramis leant forward again, biting his hand to suppress any further cries of pain as the man continued to fuck him hard. 

His ordeal lasted several more minutes, the pain was more than he had suffered on any previous encounter. He was panting hard by the time the man came with a grunt pushing into him. When he was spent, the scarred man withdrew pushing Aramis down onto the bed as he did so. Aramis remained where he was trying to settle his breathing, trying to gather his thoughts. He was unsure if he would be able to act quickly enough to attack the man, he felt pathetically weak and used.

Something was thrown over him, he realised it was his clothes. 

‘Get dressed.’

Still shaking he fumbled through the clothes and found his underclothes. Aramis sat on the edge of the bed gingerly as he slipped the garment over his legs. He noticed the scarred man had moved to stand in front of him. As he stood to pull his underclothes up, the man stepped forwards quickly, grabbing him by the side of the head and rammed him into the nearest bed post. The impact left Aramis stunned, he staggered to the side, catching himself on the edge of the bed.

The man stepped forward again before Aramis had a chance to move and punched him on the back of the shoulder causing him to fall forwards slightly. A hand around his neck pulled him upright and backwards until he was close to the scarred man who spoke into his ear with menace.

‘That, is for laughing at me.’

The man twisted Aramis around and pushed him away, tripping him to the floor. He fell hard, only just catching himself with his hands. He lay on the floor panting after the most recent assault. The scarred man stood over him laughing.

‘Get up.’

Aramis managed to pull himself up to stand, unable to hide the fact he was shaking. The man smirked at him.

‘You were a good ride, I look forward to more tomorrow…I think I may keep you.’

Aramis looked away from the man, who took a step forward and grabbed him by the arm and pulled him roughly towards the door, shoving him at it as they got closer. 

‘Back to your friend.’

The marksman opened the door and stepped back out to the corridor. The big man with the gun was waiting for him, he indicated for Aramis to walk ahead of him. Aramis did so without resistance. 

MMMM

D’Artagnan scrambled to his feet, he still felt sore, but pushed the pain away when he saw the state of his friend who has been pushed down the steps towards their cell wearing only his underclothes. Aramis face was covered in blossoming bruises and he had blood trickling down his face from a head wound. He looked a little unfocused and was breathing heavily.

The cell door was pulled open and Aramis was shoved in, d’Artagnan grabbed him before he hit the floor and guided him over to the wall before helping him to sit down.

‘The boss wants him cleaned up,’ said Mark walking down the steps carrying a tray.

D’Artagnan watched as Mark stepped into the cell and placed the tray on the floor before stepping out again, the barred door closed behind him. The big man and Mark left the cellar giggling as they went.

‘Are you OK?’ asked Aramis.

‘Am I OK? Are you OK? What happened?’ replied d’Artagnan as he tried to assess the extent of Aramis’ injuries. 

‘He didn’t like me laughing at him.’

D’Artagnan sighed, he moved away from Aramis and pulled the tray closer to them. A jug of water, two cups and some cloths were arranged on the tray. D’Artagnan poured a cup of water and held it up for Aramis who took it with a shaking hand, sipping the liquid slowly, his breathing calm again.

After dampening one of the cloths d’Artagnan cleaned the cut to Aramis’ head. The marksman winced a couple of times, but did not resist his friend.

‘It’s not bad, it won’t need dressing,’ concluded d’Artagnan.

Aramis shivered, d’Artagnan remembered his friend was only in his underclothes. He quickly pulled off his doublet and handed it to Aramis who looked at him confused.

‘Put it on,’ said the young Musketeer wondering if his friend was concussed.

Aramis did as he was told, shrugging on the jacket awkwardly, d’Artagnan had to do the buttons up for him when the marksman just stared ahead. D’Artagnan was quite concerned by Aramis’ behaviour.

‘I’ve always found sex such a pleasurable thing, giving and receiving…but that…that was…’ Aramis voice trailed off.

‘Next time they come we should try to overpower them,’ said d’Artagnan as he tried to bring Aramis out of his melancholy.

‘You’re right, I’m sorry.’

As Aramis had held on to him earlier d’Artagnan put his arm around the marksman. He realised that they were kindred spirits now, which gave him a strength he welcomed and abhorred both at the same time. 

MMMM


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

They passed the night leaning against the wall, they were both uncomfortable and cold. Aramis was stiff from his beating by the time the light returned to the cellar. They both struggled to their feet when the cellar door was pushed open. The big man and Luc entered. 

As they reached the cell door Luc spoke, ‘Beaufort wants you,’ he said looking at Aramis, ‘you’re to come now…once he’s finished with you,’ he looked across to d’Artagnan, ‘Firmin gets his turn with your friend…’

Aramis glanced back to d’Artagnan who nodded that he was fine. As fine as could be expected, thought Aramis as he walked from the cell and back up the steps. 

Beaufort was lying in the four-poster bed when Aramis was pushed into the room, the door closed behind him. He noticed his clothes had been put on the chair by the door, he wondered if he might be allowed to dress after the scarred man was finished with him. 

‘Strip, prepare yourself this time,’ Beaufort said abruptly.

Aramis took off d’Artagnan’s doublet and slipped out of his underclothes. He crossed the room and picked up the oil which was sat on the sideboard where Beaufort had retrieved it from the previous day.

‘You can lean over the sideboard.’

Aramis had hoped Beaufort would want him to be nearer when he used the oil. He had hoped there would be an opportunity to attack the scarred man, but he would have to wait.

He oiled up his fingers and twisted around to push them into himself, he glanced across to Beaufort as he worked. The man was watched intently, one hand on his already hard cock. Once Aramis was ready, he walked across to the bed and stopped waiting for instructions from his captor. He continued to hope for an opportunity to overpower Beaufort.

MMMM

D’Artagnan watched as Firmin paced up and down outside the cell, each time he reached the end of the room closest to the door he would glance up at it. The Musketeer knew Firmin was getting impatient. He knew there was a very real possibility the big man would not want to wait until Aramis was returned to the cellar. 

Firmin clearly wanted his turn sooner rather than later. D’Artagnan thought back to how uncomfortable the attack had been the previous day, he doubted Firmin would take the time that Aramis had to prepare him for sex, if he did anything. Despite trying to remain outwardly calm d’Artagnan was terrified of the prospect of being forced over the table again and fucked by the big man. 

The door was pushed open, Mark entered glancing across at d’Artagnan, then at Firmin. 

‘The boss wanted the other one for breakfast,’ Firmin said with a leering grin, ‘then I get my turn.’

‘You could be waiting a while, I think the boss has plans for the other one, said he was a good ride yesterday and wants to take full advantage today.’

Firmin looked annoyed, he turned towards d’Artagnan who shuddered. He was worried about Aramis, but also becoming increasing concerned for his own well-being, more so when Firmin stepped up to the door of the cell. 

‘I ain’t waiting anymore.’

MMMM

Beaufort beckoned Aramis forward. The scarred man swung his legs off the bed and sat with his knees spread, his cock standing firm. As Aramis stopped in front of him, his captor reached up and grabbed the marksman’s shoulders and started to push him down to kneel. 

Aramis brought his arms up between his captors and pushed them off his shoulders and grabbed the man, pulling him closer. The marksman pulled his head back before head butting Beaufort hard in the face.

The man cried out in pain, clutching his face. Aramis drew back his arm and punched the man to the side of the head. Beaufort fell sideways, slipping off the bed, Aramis went down on one knee before punching the man to the head again. 

As he pulled back his arm for another punch, he was grabbed from behind by Luc who had been in the corridor and must have heard Beaufort’s cry of pain. Aramis was pulled backwards and twisted around before being forced into the sideboard, hard, the air being knocked out of him.

The marksman kicked his heel up, catching Luc between the legs, the effect instant, the man stumbled backwards clutching at his groin before falling to his knees. Struggling for breath Aramis managed to grab a vase from the sideboard, smashing it across the man’s head. Luc crashed to the floor either unconscious or dead, Aramis did not care.

Beaufort had recovered from his initial beating and had armed himself with a small dagger. He rushed at Aramis who managed to deflect the dagger from his chest, but was sliced deeply along his arm instead. The momentum saw Beaufort travel a couple of steps passed Aramis who took the opportunity to grab the man around the back of the head and smack him forwards into the sideboard three times. 

Panting, Aramis let Beaufort go, the man slumped to the ground, lifeless. Aramis stumbled a few steps away from the bodies, he grabbed his breeches and pulled them on. He looked at his bleeding arm, the cut was deep and would need a lot of stitches, but he had no time to deal with it now. He needed to make sure d’Artagnan was safe.

MMMM

D’Artagnan had fought Firmin, he was not going to allow himself to be raped again so easily. Firmin seemed to enjoy the struggle d’Artagnan was putting up. D’Artagnan was several inches shorter than the big man. Firmin easily grabbed the Musketeer and dragged him out of the cell, pushing him down over the table and holding him there with one hand as he employed the other to undo the buttons on d’Artagnan’s breeches and pull at the ties of his underclothes. He pushed both garments down before starting to undo his own clothes. 

D’Artagnan bucked and twisted as much as he could until Firmin slapped him across the back of the head, leaving him stunned for a few seconds. 

‘Hold him still will you,’ said Firmin to Mark who laughed and stepped forwards putting one hand on each of d’Artagnan’s arms and pinning him to the table firmly. 

Firmin repositioned his hands onto d’Artagnan’s hips. D’Artagnan could not help himself from tensing up, his breathing hard and ragged. Firmin’s cock was pressing against him, he screwed his eyes shut. 

A crash, followed by a gunshot had d’Artagnan reassessing his situation. The hands that were holding his arms down disappeared, followed by the sound of a body hitting the floor. D’Artagnan opened his eyes in time to see Aramis standing on the steps, a gun held in his left hand, blood covering his limp right arm, watching as Firmin rushed towards him. The marksman was in no state to defend himself, other than the obvious wound to his arm, Aramis was covered in fresh bruises, the man had clearly been in a fight. 

Recovering his wits, d’Artagnan pushed himself up, yanking his breeches and underclothes up as he stood. Firmin had reached Aramis who had managed to hit the big man with the butt of the gun he was holding, but with little effect. Firmin grabbed the marksman around the neck and pushed him back onto the steps. Aramis grabbed at the hand trying to prise it off. 

D’Artagnan grabbed one of the chairs, he swung it down hard across the big man’s back. The musketeer was a little surprised when Firmin collapsed. His full weight landing on Aramis who issued a strangled cry as the air was knocked out of him by the sudden weight.

With a strength he did not know he had, he pulled the dead weight of Firmin off his friend. The big man tumbled off the steps to the floor. Aramis gasped for breath, blinking as he pulled himself up to a sitting position. 

‘What about the other two?’

‘Dead.’

D’Artagnan sighed, he glanced down at Firmin who had not moved. He walked down the steps and crouched by the body checking for signs of life, when he found none he looked up at Aramis and shook his head.

‘Did he…?’ asked Aramis glancing over at the table.

‘No, you were just in time,’ replied d’Artagnan as he returned to Aramis’ side. 

The marksman looked pale and was blinking. D’Artagnan was not surprised when his friend passed out, slumping sideways into the wall. 

MMMM

As he slowly opened his eyes Aramis realised he was lying on a soft bed. Then he realised that he ached all over. He tried to move but found that to be too painful so stayed still. 

‘Hello.’

Aramis looked to his right and found d’Artagnan sitting on the bed next to him. The young musketeer looked tired, dark circles lined his eyes.

‘How did you get me here?’

‘You probably have a few more bruises than you did have, I didn’t have the strength to carry you, so I had to drag you most of the way. Fortunately, there’s a bedroom on the ground floor.’

D’Artagnan helped him to sit up, he looked down at his arm and found it covered with a clean bandage. His chest and stomach were covered in bruising.

‘I cleaned you up and stitched the wound. I didn’t think it could have waited, I hope you’ll approve of my stitching?’

‘I’m sure I will.’

D’Artagnan hopped off the bed and crossed to a table by the door he collected a tray that sat on it. He walked back around to Aramis’ side of the bed and lay the tray on the marksman’s lap, before sitting in a chair by the bed. 

‘They had a well-stocked kitchen…and the wine is very good.’

As Aramis ate the food that d’Artagnan had found he listened as the young musketeer explained how he had searched the house and found no one else. Paperwork in the study revealed that the house belonged to Beaufort who had no other family and appeared to live alone with a couple of women from the local village visiting him to cook and clean. There had been no sign of anyone approaching the house since they had killed their captors. But d’Artagnan had been keeping an eye out.

Beaufort was a man with money, d’Artagnan had quickly realised that they were not being held for ransom, they were being held for entertainment. 

‘I wonder if he has done this before…taken people from the road and kept them,’ said Aramis.

‘I searched through the rest of the house,’ replied d’Artagnan, ‘I found a room on the second floor…it was full of…torturous looking devices. I think he was a total sadist…if you hadn’t managed to take him out when you did I hate to imagine what they would have progressed to doing to us.’

‘We’ll need to report the bodies to the local village leaders,’ said Aramis as he sipped on the high-quality wine. He watched as d’Artagnan’s expression changed to one of worry.

‘Do we have to tell them what happened to us?’

‘No,’ said Aramis, ‘we don’t need to go into detail. We were captured, and we overpowered them and escaped…that is all they need to know.’

D’Artagnan visibly relaxed.

‘You should talk to someone though. What happened…what they did to us…we shouldn’t keep totally quiet about it. Even if we only talk to Athos and Porthos.’

‘I don’t want to talk about it, I just want to forget it.’

‘You won’t be able to d’Artagnan, what happened was awful, but we should not be ashamed of it, we were the victims.’

D’Artagnan looked away, his eyes watering as he did so. Aramis reached out and hooked his finger under the young man’s chin pulling him back around to face him.

‘At the very least, if you feel the need you can come and talk to me about it…don’t bottle it up.’

D’Artagnan nodded, ‘I won’t.’

Aramis hoped the young man was telling the truth. He knew he would have to keep an eye on him. 

MMMM

Aramis had slept for a few hours before he felt ready to start their journey. D’Artagnan busied himself feeding their horses which had been stabled with Beaufort’s own beasts. He saddled them and brought them to the front of the house where Aramis was waiting, having done a cursory check of the house to ensure if was secure.

D’Artagnan had to help Aramis to mount up, he did not want the marksman to strain the injury on his arm after he had spent the time carefully stitching the wound shut. Wincing as he settled on the horse Aramis nodded his thanks. 

They walked the horses off Beaufort’s land and towards the local village. As they turned out of the gates they found two women about to enter the grounds. It had been an awkward conversation convincing the women that they should not go to the house and that Beaufort and his men were dead. The younger of the two women had looked shocked for a few moments before she began to cry. The older woman put her arm around the younger one and told the two musketeers that they had both been frequently propositioned by the men at the house. The younger woman had been touched inappropriately on more than occasion. 

The older woman had looked them both over, taking in the injuries Aramis was obviously afflicted with before asking if they were both well enough to travel. After being ensured that they were fine she told them that she would deal with informing the authorities on their behalf. She wished them well, reaching up and patting d’Artagnan’s horse as she did so. She made eye contact with the young man who got the impression she had a fair idea what they had both been through. 

They travelled for a few hours before stopping for a break. As the horses drank from a nearby stream Aramis sat on a fallen tree trunk and stared off into the distance. D’Artagnan had tried to engage the marksman in conversation but the man had remained largely silent during their ride. 

‘You told me I had to talk about it…that I shouldn’t bottle it up…And I said I wouldn’t…you need to listen to your own good advice,’ said d’Artagnan as he sat beside his friend. 

Aramis sighed before replying, ‘I know, but I can’t work out how I feel about it all. It was always a worry, whenever I have been held captive…but I never imagined it would feel…like this. I can’t work out if I am angry at myself or them…I know I said that there was nothing to feel ashamed of after what happened…but I do.’

D’Artagnan looked at his friend for a few moments before replying, ‘I was terrified back there, if you hadn’t been there to…help me, I would have been hurt, probably killed. You kept us both alive, I’m sure. I don’t think there is anything wrong about feeling…ashamed…I feel emasculated by it,’ he held up his hand to stop Aramis interrupting him, ‘I can’t even begin to imagine sleeping with Constance again…but I will…I’m not going to let this beat me…even if it takes me a while…and neither should you.’

Aramis smiled, ‘I consider myself thoroughly told off for being melancholy. Thank you.’

D’Artagnan knew it would not be easy but between them they would get through it. The emotions they were both feeling would fade, would be replaced by others, and they would have to work their way through each one as it came. 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a rubbish ending I know, but I didn’t really know how to stop. I kind of want to do a follow up with each man trying to overcome what happened to them; D’Artagnan’s feelings of emasculation and Aramis finding sex no longer a pleasurable thing. Perhaps they need to seek solace in each other?   
> Would you read something like that?


End file.
